


And Then There Was Aaron Hotchner

by EclecticRegard



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, First Meetings, Gen, Genderbending, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 20:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1661135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclecticRegard/pseuds/EclecticRegard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before joining the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, Spencer Reid spent her time after university in Las Vegas, counting cards in casinos for fun. Enter SSA Aaron Hotchner, who knows her brilliance can be spent more productively with his team.</p><p>A different take on how Reid joined the BAU and became a valuable member to the team over the following years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Then There Was Aaron Hotchner

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a fill I did for a three-sentence fic prompt on tumblr. 
> 
> You will have to forgive me for any inaccuracies surrounding casinos/gambling/etc., since the only thing I really know about them is that I don't particularly enjoy partaking in them. 
> 
> This story's stats/tags/etc. are subject to change if I am inspired to add to it.

Diana Reid had always known that her daughter was meant for great things, much greater than what "normal" children were capable of. Spencer was beyond smart (people had taken to using the term 'genius' to describe her, and, though Diana agreed with them, she always liked to elaborate on just what  _made_  Spencer so special). She knew that Spencer felt at home in Las Vegas, but Diana insisted that her daughter receive the best education at the best establishments. She found herself surprised when Spencer returned home -- though she pointedly ignored the fact that it was partially to institutionalize her, a nice enough place she had to admit (but would never do aloud).  

 

 

Las Vegas was Spencer's home and, while she enjoyed learning and strove to continue her education by reading as much as she could whenever she could, she wanted to stay. She had a handful of doctorate's, master's, and bachelor's degrees to her name, all of which made her mother more proud than it made her. Things had changed for her while she had been away at her most recent university -- she had been just barely eighteen when a few of her classmates took pity on her seemingly lonely existence and invited her to join them at a bar one night. When she reminded them of her age, one of the women took her on a little "journey" to meet another friend of hers. This friend, as it would turn out, made fake IDs on the side; thus Dr. Spencer Reid also became known as Donna Baron, a twenty-two year-old from Wisconsin. The identity followed her back home, reminding Spencer that Donna could still exist for her about two weeks after she moved back and found herself inexplicably  _bored_ wandering the streets for entertainment each day. She presented herself as Donna at a casino after deliberating on the ethical implications of sneaking into an over-twenty-one establishment to gamble.

It turned out that playing cards wasn't interesting enough for Spencer, not after about a week of playing. The money came and went as she tried playing fair and soon her mother's bills starting piling up on the table by the front door. She had read about card counting online and in books; she had never put the practice into action, but it seemed simple enough.

She was pleasantly surprised when it turned out she was rather good at it (but then wasn't she supposed to be good at everything?). Nobody seemed to take notice, which could have been attributed to a number of different factors, all of which she considered as she moved from table to table that first day in order to remain inconspicuous. The money was beyond amazing and soon the bills were paid off almost as soon as they came in, never cluttering her sight anymore. The rush alone was enough to keep her going; it was fun to not only trick people, but to be constantly aware of the fact that, at any moment, she could get caught. It was the same feeling she got that first night she became Donna; the first sip of her Jack and Coke tasted sweet and strong on her tongue and she had wanted more of it, more of that rush, of the feeling that she was getting away with something worth getting barred for good from the casinos she visited. She still enjoyed the freedom to go as she pleased enough to rotate the casinos on a semi-regular basis, if only to avoid too much suspicion. At least for the time being.

\--

The FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit was known for travelling around the county to help local law enforcement catch various criminals. Although the agents working under Supervisory Special Agent Aaron "Hotch" Hotchner were professional when appropriate, that didn't stop them from getting a little overly excited at going to Las Vegas. Some had been, others hadn't, but the level of excitement was about the same for each agent regardless. Hotch allowed them a few minutes of excited chatter once they were on the jet before redirecting them to the case at hand: casino-goers, both locals and tourists, both men and women, had been getting snatched late at night on their way home from a few hours of drinking and gambling. The unsub kept them for three days almost exactly before slaughtering them and dumping the bodies just outside city limits. That meant that almost every person within city lines was at risk at least one time or another, and they had to put an end to it fast. 

The entire investigation had been, thankfully, rather uneventful as far as more murders occurring went. The unsub had snatched a woman, though this time he was much messier and far less careful given the fact that the woman had screamed and, unfortunately for him, someone had come to her aid. He'd knocked her out easily enough, but fighting off the large security guard had taken its own time and energy away from his clean break. The security guard, while sustaining minor enough injuries, was able to help the BAU identify the man, allowing the team to rescue her before the second day had finished.

After taking care of their odds and ends with the local law enforcement, Hotch announced to his team that they weren't leaving until the following afternoon, citing that a job well done deserved the occasional reward. After watching the wide grins spread across their faces, even he decided to go enjoy the Vegas nightlife himself and so ventured out to enjoy a bit of low-stakes gambling for the atmosphere more than anything else. He still wore his suit, though his credentials were no longer on display and he appeared far more relaxed than when he was on the job. 

He walked around for a bit after getting a quick drink from the bar as he tried to decide what he should play. Coming across a poker table, Hotch paused. There was a brunette seated at the table that looked familiar -- he had seen her when they had come to look around for any evidence regarding the unsub's identity earlier that day, and he remembered thinking to himself that she couldn't possibly be old enough to be gambling in a casino, much less drinking the amber liquid in her glass. Her light brown hair was messy, though more from lack of interest than anything else. She wore glasses with thick black temples and a bridge, though the lenses were otherwise outlined with a clear plastic. Hotch watched her for a few more minutes, taking in the subtle movements and motions she was making that would pass over anybody who wasn't observant enough to recognize them as out of the ordinary.

Card counting, of course. She was either a very brave tourist or a very bored local. 

After a few more moments of consideration, Hotch decided to join her table. He took the empty seat right beside the young woman and signaled to the dealer that he was joining in. While the dealer set him up with some cards, he allowed himself a sideways glance at the young woman. She didn't seem to really take notice of him.

In his low, even voice, he muttered "Counting cards isn't exactly good casino etiquette, you know" to her so as not to raise the suspicions of the nearby staff.

Spencer froze, frowning intently at the cards in her hand. She chanced a look over at the man beside her: well-dressed, stiff, most likely a government job that could attribute to the dark circles under his eyes that most likely rarely had the chance to fade away. Her eyes narrowed at him as he turned to look straight on into her dark brown eyes. She quickly relaxed, however, when she realized that he had no intention of getting her into trouble as he continued talking.

"We could use someone like you on the job."

  
They spent the rest of that evening talking. They gambled a bit longer until Hotch managed to talk her into going somewhere a "little less  _flashy_ ," as he had phrased it (it made her smile, at least). She lead him down the strip to a restaurant, where they both settled down for a quick late-night meal. 

When he started to ask her questions, she insisted that they form a trade-off system, where for every question he asked, she could ask a question of him. It started off with simple stuff, like where she was from, what her education was, and strayed into a bit more personal as he asked her about her real name and age. When she had replied with "Spencer Reid" and "almost nineteen" -- "almost," like that was somehow supposed to make it  _better_ \-- Hotch began telling her more about his work. Her I.Q. alone could make her a valuable member of his team, not to mention her eidetic memory. It all depended on her personality, which, aside from allowing her to get over the ethical and moral implications of card counting, seemed pleasant enough. She had all the makings of an awkward kid who had grown up too fast mentally but, due to not being around kids her own age most of the time, had not been afforded the same social growth, which could work for or against her in the field and with the team.

At the end of their meal, he had left her his card with instructions to think about his offer over the weekend. When he went into work the following Monday, he had a message from her on his office phone. Amidst Spencer's odd ramblings, he was able to make out that she was, in fact,  _very_ interested in the opportunity. Before calling her back, he set to work arranging to have her necessary files collected so they could begin the process of admitting her to the academy.

\-- 

It was nearly two years ago to the day that Hotch had given Spencer his card back in Las Vegas. She had gotten into the academy with his full support -- he had pulled a few strings, she knew, given her young age -- and, other than the fact that she hadn't  _exactly_ passed her weapon's exam, she was now a full fledged agent with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. 

She and the team had hit it off almost immediately. Hotch brought her in to meet with them a few times while she was still in training and she remembered dreading the comments that would doubtlessly dominant the conversation regarding her age. She also remembered the immense relief she felt when they all called her "Dr. Reid" and didn't refer to her age even once -- she was unsure as to whether Hotch had advised them against it, but that didn't really matter, so long as they recognized her as more than just a kid. Elle and JJ were warm and welcoming in a way that didn't threaten that they would harp on her about her appearance or less-than-ladylike behavior and she instantly loved them for it. Gideon seemed a bit harder to read, though he had obviously warmed up to her in no time flat if the direction of their conversations were any indication. Garcia chattered with her at a speed that could rival Spencer's own whenever she got excited; she was grateful that she wasn't the only "different" agent in the entire FBI. Derek, who had initially tried playfully flirting (or so she thought) with her only to realize she had no clue how to respond, made a point to talk and joke with her more than the others, as though he already felt like a protective older brother; he even called her "kid," which she somehow didn't find the slightest bit teasing or offensive. 

Her first case on the team had been her true test -- at least, that was the impression she got from the others as they entered the conference room to discuss the serial rapist. They seemed to have expected her to keep quiet and observe, taking in and learning from their experience, judging by the looks of surprise when, while studying one of the files JJ had passed around the table, she had listed off statistics regarding the various ins and outs of assault and violence. A brief silence followed, one that she either didn't notice or care about, before they picked back up on their discussion. As the team filed out to prepare to leave within the next half-hour, Spencer caught Hotch's arm by his sleeve.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, barely waiting for the last of them to be out of earshot before she did so.

He gave her a curious quirk of the brow. "For what?"

"Speaking out of turn like that. Was it out of line?"

"Reid, if I was worried about my team taking turns, I'd have gone to teach kindergarten." Hotch gave her a quick, tiny smile, waiting for her expression to relax before adding, "I wanted you on the team because of your knowledge and ability. Don't let the fact that you're younger and may feel a bit out of place because of it stop you from sharing anything you can offer to the team. Nobody will care that you're twenty so long as you can hold your own during the cases."

Spencer nodded her understanding before running off at Derek's playful call to "get her scrawny ass moving."

By the end of the case, everyone had asked her at one time or another how she was doing given the type of case they were working on. Each time she was asked, she had been too engrossed in the evidence to really hear the worry in their voices, so she would answer quickly that she was okay before pointing out something that seemed odd or out of place in the pictures, files, or map she was studying. When Gideon had asked her, she had barely grunted an affirmative noise; he carefully took the file from her hands, which caused her to start protesting before she saw the serious look on his face. Pushing her glasses up further on her nose, she muttered an apology before promising she was fine, and only then did he let her get back to work. 

\--

They worked several successful and not-so-successful cases together over the following years. A few agents -- Elle, Gideon, JJ, Prentiss, all the ones she didn't want to dwell on too much after they left or, in JJ and Prentiss' cases, returned -- had left for one reason or another over the years, but she had been comforted by the fact that Hotch, Derek, and Garcia had always been a constant in her life. She could still rely on Derek to go out to a bar with her, especially if she would promise to occasionally help him scope the room for anybody that he could hit on (and then that was only after she had offered during her first year at the BAU and he declined, citing her age. She had left angry that night and came back apologetic the following morning, which he shrugged off with a winning grin -- god, sometimes she found herself torn between hating his stupid handsome face and loving his easy friendship that came with the unspoken guarantee that that's all either of them wanted from the other). She could still rely on Garcia to drag her along on the occasional shopping trip or even a Con to "get her away from all of that book learning," which made her laugh every time. Most importantly, she could still rely on Hotch to sit and chat with her whenever she needed it, whether it was for a reality check or simply a few kind words. 

The bond they had as a team was ever growing over the years, the longest relationships Spencer had ever hung on to aside from her mother's, and adding David Rossi to the mix had been fun. He didn't want to talk much about his books, which left her slightly disappointed, but he was always up to talking to her about virtually anything else. She remembered the look on his face when they had first been introduced, that split second of disbelief at the fact that Hotch would enlist the help of someone who was practically a child, which disappeared the moment she opened her mouth. She only saw that " _Oh_ " moment once, that singular moment where he doubted her because of her age and Hotch because of his lapse in judgement, and, for that, she was grateful. He was the same as Gideon had been in some ways, always introducing her as "Dr. Reid" and letting her talk to him and work through her thoughts in order to get to the understanding she so desperately sought. He had turned into a good friend as well -- something she never expected when she initially considered joining the FBI.

And then there was Aaron Hotchner. 

He was always kind to her, gentle with her when need-be, but he never treated her with kid gloves. Perhaps it was due to the fact that he had known her well in advance, knew what she was capable of from the start, but he had never looked at her as less than Dr. Spencer Reid with a genius I.Q. and an eidetic memory. She returned the proffered kindness and comfort whenever she could, especially after Haley's passing. He didn't want to talk with her about it, not really (but then he didn't want to discuss it with anybody, so she took no offense), although he certainly didn't turn her down whenever she showed up in his office with dessert, coffee, or a chess board to give him a little break from all of the files and reports. 

They would talk about nothing in particular for the most part. Sometimes it would be about Jack or, on very rare occasions, Diana, but there was never lost moments of silence between them where neither of them knew what to say to the other. Their relationship was almost still based off that trade-off system Spencer had suggested at the restaurant back in Vegas and it worked for them: he helped her kick her habit by getting her into a program and she helped him work through his grief over Haley in the best way she knew how. 

The meetings in his office became a bit of a regular thing between them, something almost resembling the relationship she had shared with Gideon but not quite the same. Hotch didn't mentor Spencer as much as Gideon had -- socializing with the team as a whole seemed to have worked for her the older she became -- and sometimes whatever was between them seemed to go just beyond friendship, though nothing that either of them would breech. They were friends and, regardless of whatever mutual attraction was between them, that's the way it would stay for years to come.

\-- 

Jack was seven the first time Spencer came over to watch him. Hotch suddenly had to work late and, though Haley's sister had offered to cancel her evening plans, she appeared extremely grateful when Spencer volunteered to relieve her. It was only for a few hours, after all, and Spencer liked kids well enough. The most important thing was that Hotch trusted her, and it showed as he listed off various tidbits for her to keep in mind while she was looking after Jack. It was a long list, in her opinion, but then she wasn't a parent, was she? When she arrived at the Hotchner household, Haley's sister was saying goodbye to Jack, who was settled in front of the television. Spencer had only a moment to speak with her before she disappeared, leaving the younger woman all alone with Jack. 

She wandered into the living room, feeling immediately awkward. "Hey, Jack. Uh, I don't know if you remember me--"

"You're Dr. Reid, right?" When she nodded, relieved, he continued, "Dad talks about you all the time."

"Oh yeah?" Spencer blinked, unsure what to make of that information before joining the boy on the couch. "So, what're we watching?"

It turned out that Jack was a bit of a fan of  _Star Trek_ , which she could definitely understand. They finished off the movie with a while to spare before his established bedtime, so Spencer turned on a few episodes of  _TNG_ for them to watch until then.  At some point during the show, Spencer had fallen asleep on the couch. When Jack realized it was later than he'd thought, he gave her one look before going off into his father's bedroom, returning moments later with a blanket. He quickly covered her before going off to get ready for bed on his own. 

When Hotch wandered in around ten-thirty, he was greeted by the blare of the television screen and softened voices preparing for some kind of epic space battle. He looked into the living room, spotting Spencer with the blanket draped over her seated form. He reached for the remote to turn the television off before easing her to lay down on the couch; it was too late to ask her to drive home, anyways, so it wasn't that big of a deal. Once he was satisfied that Spencer was going to be comfortable enough, which involved him carefully removing her shoes, he went off to check on Jack.

The boy stirred when he saw the light from the hallway streaming into his room and sat up to greet his father with a smile. Hotch went in to sit beside Jack, smiling back. "Did you get Reid the blanket?"

"Yeah. She fell asleep a while ago and I didn't want to wake her. Is she sleeping over?"

"On the couch, yes. She's still asleep."

"I like her, Dad. Can she come play again? She knows  _everything_ about  _Star Trek_."

He chuckled in response, motioning for Jack to lay down. "We'll see, Buddy. She's busy with work too."

Once he had given his son a kiss on the forehead, he left him to fall asleep, wandering into his own room for the night, unable to get Spencer off his mind. It was something else, to be able to bear witness to what she looked like when her hard-working brain was shut off. There was a genuine ease to her features that he had only gotten to see a handful of times. It was good to hear that she and Jack had gotten along, too, since he had been unsure of it from the moment she had volunteered to come over.

Hotch laid his head down on his pillow after changing his clothes with a picture of the sleeping genius floating around in his head, the last thought in his mind before he dozed off.

The following morning, Spencer woke to unfamiliar surroundings. Her first response was to panic and her second was to stop herself before freaking out too much. As she sat up, she first took note of the blanket that had been placed over her. Then she remembered: she was in Aaron Hotchner's house. Her  _boss'_  house, where she had fallen asleep after promising to watch his kid; she didn't even know if Jack made it to bed!

Spencer leapt off the couch, heart pounding in her chest as she hurried down the hallway, passing right by the kitchen without noticing that Hotch was there, putting together a simple breakfast. She chanced a quick look into Jack's room, relief washing over her as she saw the child sleeping in his bed. She headed back towards the front of the house, hoping to sneak off before either of the Hotchner men woke up. She wasn't so lucky, she realized, when she caught a glimpse of her boss -- stoic, serious, always put together Hotch -- in nothing but a pair of pajama pants pouring two cups of coffee. Her jaw fell as she froze in place.

"Oh, good, you're up. I thought I heard you walking around. Remind me again how you take your coffee."

Spencer stammered, looking for the words that wouldn't work their way off her tongue, before squeaking that she liked milk and a bit of sugar. Hotch didn't so much as look at her while she struggled to find her voice, simply accepting it as a "typical Reid moment" before complying. When he pressed the cup into her hand, he took notice of her expression.

"What?"

"Yo-You're practically  _naked_ , Hotch. And you're making me breakfast instead of chewing me out for not making sure Jack was taken care of before I  _fell asleep on your couch_."

"I'm wearing pants, I can hear your stomach growling, Jack is perfectly safe, and nobody was going to use the couch in the middle of the night anyways."

"I--" Spencer cut herself off with a heavy sigh. "Have you got any bacon?"

\--

She spent the next week avoiding Hotch when it didn't pertain to the case. She just couldn't get any of it out of her head. Jack wasn't strong enough to lay her down without waking her, which meant Hotch had done so for her. Not to mention the fact that she had definitely had a physical reaction to seeing him in pajama pants that didn't exactly go up very high (not that it was inappropriate or obscene in any way, but  _damn_ ); she had known he kept in shape, she just never really got the chance to see just how well-toned he was before. She wasn't exactly scared of him or any of the rest of their team picking up on anything. She had dated enough to know how to keep things under wrap. That didn't change the fact that she had usually dated somebody or slept with them before really getting to know them; it would be the opposite for her and Hotch, if anything ever happened -- which it wouldn't, she was sure. 

By Friday, just as she was heading out with Derek for a few drinks to start off the weekend, Hotch stood in his office doorway and called her name in his sternest voice (and  _why_ did that turn her on, for crying out loud??). Spencer avoided the curious and sympathetic looks from her teammates as she headed up the steps to meet him in his office. She stepped past him, not bothering to sit down as she turned to watch him close the door, effectively removing any outside distractions. 

"Why do I get the feeling that you've been avoiding me ever since we had breakfast at my place?" he asked evenly, keeping a comfortable amount of space between them as he opted to remain standing as well.

Spencer bit her lip. "Because... I have been?"

"In that case, can you tell me why that is?"

"No."

"Okay," Hotch frowned. "Did I do something to upset you, perhaps?"

"No!"

"Well, if you don't want to babysit anymore, that's fine. You don't have to go in such a roundabout way of telling me, though--"

"It's not that either," she interjected. When he simply gave her a curious frown, she huffed, rubbing her hands over her face before looking back up at him. "Your pajama pants."

Hotch's brow furrowed. "Did my state of dress offend you? Or, perhaps more accurately, embarrass you?"

"Yes, that's it! That's exactly it."

"Surely you've seen a man without a shirt before."

"Yeah, but never one that looked as good as you do!" Spencer exclaimed, looking mildly horrified at her outburst before her mouth just kept going. "I mean, how do you expect me to react after seeing you like that just after you laid me down on your couch so I could sleep instead of kicking me out for the night??"

He was quiet for a moment, contemplative as he studied her carefully. "I thought you would appreciate me not disturbing you."

"I do, really. But then you had to go and  _ruin_ everything."

"By being nice and good-looking," Hotch deadpanned.

"Yes! You don't play fair, Hotch. You've gotten inside my head and now I can't get rid of you. You're like a leech or something--" was the last she could get out before he swallowed her words, grasping her face in his hands as he pressed their lips together in a carnal, needy way. When he pulled away, she looked completely dazed.

"Reid, I don't want you to keep avoiding me."

"But what about...?" Spencer trailed off, gesturing between them.

"We'll take our time, figure out what this is, if it's anything at all."

"Can we do it this weekend?"

"I have Jack."

"I like Jack. Jack likes me. Win-win situation."

"We won't have sex no matter what we do or don't decide."

"I don't care. I just... let me make up for avoiding you all week."

She and Hotch stared at one another for several silent beats. Finally, he kissed her again, his approach much more gentle this time around. When they separated, he rested his forehead against hers and chuckled.

"What?"

"Did you seriously just liken me to a leech?"

"Y'know, leeches are actually--"

"Spencer. Shut up for a moment. Go get your bags, get some cookies, and come over to my place."

"Why the cookies?"

"Jack and I love them," he replied simply.

\--

A good three weeks later, while Jack was at his aunt's for the night, Spencer woke in the middle of the night with a familiar disorienting sensation befalling her. She felt comfortably warm, though, and the sensation immediately passed. She felt a weight across her waist and glanced over her shoulder to find that Hotch was pressed right up behind her, the two of them naked aside from the sheets covering their bodies. Spencer watched him for a while, giving him a smile when he slowly opened his eyes.

"Spencer, shut off your brain."

 "What?"

 "I can't sleep when you're  _thinking_." 


End file.
